


Dress up for Love

by Billywick



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: M/M, rockband!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billywick/pseuds/Billywick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from Desecrate through Reverence. Takes place alongside Chapter 5's events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress up for Love

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Desecrate through Reverence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/573254) by [Billywick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billywick/pseuds/Billywick). 



**Inspired by and written for this[piece of art](http://25.media.tumblr.com/6cffa1c4c2788e20c6dcabdff09560b1/tumblr_mhyo95Q4f41r3x4qxo1_500.jpg)**

 

The music was thumping in the background and the voices of the others, Nate, Eli, Kate and Cassie were laughing in the other room. The strip poker had gone over very well and Teddy had disappeared with Billy in tow, a fact that didn’t pass by any of them. Oh yes, the tension there had been tangible and everyone had made bets on how long it would take for the two of them to land in the sack together.  
  
But right now, there was nothing on his mind about Teddy’s long-standing interest in the young journalist who clearly gave him the bedroom eyes at any moment of the day. Right now, there was this vibe, similar to the buzz he got from being onstage, the same kind of liquid fire that pumped through his veins every time he pulsed for the glorious fuck after a show, the same, pure adrenaline high rewarded by having sex with _him_.  
  
His _awful_ prick of a manager.  
  
Damn that fucking guy. Noh-Varr was still entirely dressed, shirt, impeccable pants, jacket and tie. Did he have to look like a damn mafia boss every fucking day? And did Tommy really have to find him so devastatingly attractive for it?  
  
The manager hadn’t participated in their little game, of course not, though Tommy wouldn’t have minded the slow reveal of that body, that temple of sculpted, defined masculinity. Not that he would ever say something like that out loud. Then again, that would have shown of what Tommy enjoyed on a nightly basis right there in front of everyone and the singer wasn’t comfortable with the ugly little green monster that reared its head on that thought.

Better to keep this man to himself. The others didn’t need to know their manager was in fact some sort of sex god. Especially Kate. She’d been giving Noh an interested eye every time he appeared and that didn’t sit right with Tommy either. She should be wanting him, Tommy, everyone should, and Noh-Varr would be his own damn little secret.  
  
The manager was lounging on a couch, talking to some other suit on the phone. His voice was tired, but he was sharp, no matter what time of night. Maybe it was the alcohol or the late hour, but Tommy found himself practically purring at the sound of his voice.  
  
Noh-Varr should sing something for him sometime, something lounge lizardy, something where the deep pitch of his voice could really send shivers down Tommy’s spine. Not that he could ever convince his manager to do anything like that. Noh had this peculiar resistance to Shepherd charm. Maybe that stemmed from fucking him, Tommy would have to look into it. At some point. When he was bored. Not now.  
  
The phone-call ended and there was mirth in those crystalline eyes when Tommy’s gaze finally landed on Noh’s face again after a lengthy sweep of the land.  
  
“You really hate wearing shirts, don’t you Tommy?”  
  
“Because they make you look like a dick. You’re the best example. You look you’re about to sell me insurance for fuck’s sake. Take that crap off.”  
The mirth turned to deviance in a fragment of a second and a smirk curved Noh’s lips. Damn it, he’d paid him a compliment, somehow. Tommy really needed to get back on form with whiplash comebacks and scorching insults. Noh-Varr caught between rage and lust, that was what he aimed for, not this pleased little smug expression.  
  
“You want me to undress for you? Didn’t you get enough eyefuls at the strip poker table?”  
  
As he spoke, Noh’s hands slid to his jacket, undoing buttons as if he was unlocking the world’s greatest safe. With measured, leisurely elegance, he shrugged his jacket away, leaving him in the stark white and black of his shirt and tie. Tommy could practically smell the musk of the man’s aftershave from where he was sitting on the table.  
  
And he definitely didn’t try to savour the scent, but Noh’s scent was as irritatingly memorable as his voice; like something thick and sweet that oozed over your tastebuds and washed away all memory of other flavours. Yeah, Noh-Varr had many things in common with syrup.  
  
“Pft, I’ve seen all of those guys naked too often. And the girls were cheating, no one’s _that_ good at poker.”  
  
“Is that so? Were you mourning the fact Kate remained so firmly clothed?”  
  
God damnit, that voice was starting to wash away his ability to discern when a snappy retort would hit home and when it was just plain lame. Noh’s eyes...his fucking eyes. The look wasn’t unreadable or full of emotions, Tommy would have been absolutely repelled by that anyway, but it was clearly full of ardent greed. For him.  
  
His body tingled, the odd heat in him suddenly found its destination, which should have been clear all along. His insides were doing this absurd clenching thing, as if he was...trembling with excitement. Fuck. He better keep a lid on this. It was one thing to be turned on by his own power and performance on stage, to be straight up horny when he’d lived out his hour of being a living god and demand a heated fuck right afterwards. It was entirely different to be turned on by his manager giving him the eye and undoing his tie.  
  
“I bet she’s got a smokin’ body under all that purple shit she likes to wear. I’d get me a piece of that if Eli wasn’t so fuckin’ in love with her already. Guy’s got no self-control.”  
  
“Oh, yes, and you are a beacon of self-control,” the silky, black tie slipped from the collar in one smooth, fluid motion, but Noh didn’t put it aside like the jacket, he kept it between his fingers, played with the expanse of expensive cloth, “Girls aren’t pieces of meat, you know, they don’t all volunteer to sacrifice their lives at your altar, Shepherd.”  
  
There was absolutely no way he was going to control his tongue in the next five seconds, Noh always did deliver such perfect openings straight into Tommy’s lap.  
  
“But you do.”  
  
The slip of silk caught on his skin as Noh-Varr reeled him in, the tie around Tommy’s neck in a flurry of movement and the grip tight. The intoxicating scent of the manager was hazing the lead-singer’s brain, several of his logical functions completely short-circuiting as he prepared himself for an inevitably horizontal tango.  
  
“You’re a bigger idiot than I thought,”  
  
Hot breath on his face sent Tommy’s spine afire, nerves shooting encouragement into his crotch and a cheeky grin to his lips.  
  
“You’re not denying it though.”  
  
“Right,” Noh-Varr brought him closer to his face, eyes narrowing with vicious and enticing intent as his lips parted. Tommy opened his mouth in pleasant anticipation, insides squirming with delight at the violent bite of the tie’s fabric into his skin. This was definitely going his way.  
  
When he felt the touch of an assertive tongue, Tommy was ready to melt, ready to climb into Noh’s lap and convince him that a rough fuck right here was the absolute best way to ride out their tension and ‘anger’ at each other.  
The aforementioned tongue swiped past his lips, brushed his own and would most certainly engage in...What the hell?!

Tommy’s eyes shot open, objection already clear in them as he raced to find Noh’s gaze and demand an explanation as to why he’d retreated.

  
But those goddamn crystal, or better yet, icy shards of blue were staring him down with something deeper than irritated lust, with more than condescending arousal. If Tommy Shepherd were a weaker man, he would have surrendered to the static atmosphere of heavy arousal in an instant.  
  
“The hell’s up with you? Don’t give me the sex eyes and then bail out on me, asshole,” Tommy hissed, breath hitching as the grip around his neck tightened and Noh’s knuckles paled slightly with the effort.  
  
“They’d have to get in line.”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“The girls. They’d have to get in line behind eternity.”  
  
Only Noh could say something like that with absolute sincerity and it was only thanks to the fact he was rock-hard and in desperate need of a fuck that Tommy didn’t burst out sniggering.  
  
“Yeah yeah, do you want an award for fucking me? They give that out you know, it’s called ‘congratulations, you get to suck Tommy Shepherd’s dick’. Would look nice on your CV.”  
  
The intensity didn’t leave Noh’s eyes, but the usual mirth, the condescending amusement at Tommy’s words returned to them as he finally used that damn free hand of his to pull Tommy’s barely clothed body entirely into his lap.  
  
“I’m going to need some credentials for that reference.”  
  
“I’m gonna need for you to shut the hell up and stick your tongue down my throat already.”  
  
It earned him an eyeroll and a rumble in the broad chest beneath his fingers that was probably a chuckle before being trapped in Noh’s muscle-bound body.  
  
“Your wish is my command.”  
  
Okay, Noh-Varr was a _damn_ good manager, all things considered.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [All Dressed Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/683803) by [DangerousCommieSubversive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/DangerousCommieSubversive)




End file.
